Finding my Father
by PharaohDeli
Summary: Teddy Lupin grew up with only stories to tell him about his parents, a chest of his father's,filled with so-called memories is the one connection he has with his father.Through the captured memories of Remus, Ted finds a connection with his lost father.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any named character contained in this story unless otherwise directly stated.

Chapter Warnings: None

Characters: Harry Potter, Teddy Lupin, Remus Lupin

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It had started with an invitation in the summer before his sixth year. Dark red hair dangling in a loose ponytail, Teddy Lupin sat on the Potter's porch, switching between reading some old book he'd found and watching Victoire play with James. It was a lovely day, and the air was thick with the perfume of the lavish garden, its colors blending seamlessly with the sliver of sunset that threatened the horizon. His lips still tasted of the picnic earlier that day. Teddy grinned, it had been a good day. It was during these musings that Harry had sat beside his godson on the bench, unnoticed. Eventually, Harry let out a small cough.

"Oh!" Teddy jumped, having been caught by surprise, "Harry. Hi. How're you?"

Harry smiled kindly, "I'm fine, thank you. Yourself?"

"Brilliant. Gorgeous day, isn't it?"

Harry fidgeted. He looked uncomfortable, "Ted, listen…I…you're sixteen, aren't you now?"

Ted's smile faded into a slight, worried frown that Harry couldn't help think made him look like Remus. "Yes, remember, you and Ginny sent me a cake in April? Why?"

"It's nothing bad, Teddy, don't worry. I just thought th-"

"Harry, what's wrong? What's going on? Is something wrong with Ginny? Is she going into labor? Oh god, Harry, is Ginny in labor?" Panic began to spread throughout the metemorphmargus, hair changing to a short and spiky black, eyes going a stormy grey. _Surely not, _he thought, _surely not_.  Could they not get to St. Mungos on time? Is that why Harry asked? To help with the delivery? Ohgodohgodohgod…he couldn't handle that kind of pressure. Teddy wasn't good in stressful situations. Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohg-

"Teddy, calm down, it's nothing like that," Teddy sighed, almost humorously, in relief as he sank back down to his seat. "I have something to…to give you."

Teddy raised an eyebrow that was changing back to red as it rose, "Give me? Why are you acting so worried?" An idea struck, "Oh, oh Merlin…Harry, listen, if it's… "the talk", no, really, it's fine, I-"

"It's from your father."

_Oh._

Harry patted him on the back and led him around the back, to a small shack at the edge of the yard. As far as Teddy knew, it was for storage. He'd never been in there before, as a kid he wasn't allowed to, as a teenager he hadn't cared. The inside was dark, and smelled of old parchment and dust and bad ink. Waving his wand, Harry illuminated the small area and started searching.

"Your father left me several things when he…when he died. That he wanted me to give you, when I thought you were ready. … are you ready?" Harry turned and faced him, staring unblinkingly.

"I-I" Teddy stammered, "I…yes? It's nothing horrible, is it?"

There was a pause as Harry went back to rummaging. "I wouldn't know, I've never actually looked. I felt…it wasn't right. Like I was peeping into yours and your father's personal lives… Ah! Here we go." Harry lifted up what appeared to be a red a gold duvet, tattered and ripped in a few places. Underneath was an (rather disappointingly, in Teddy's opinion) unremarkable chest. It was made of what seemed to be cedar wood that had faded with age, the surface bearing what looked like scratch marks and showing evidence of having weathered rather more than it probably should have. On the front, right above the key hole, was a tarnished golden name plate that read _R..J. Lupin. _

Teddy blinked. The chest had been his father's…he looked again at the scratch marks, a few of them rather too deep to be the results of wear and tear over the years. Could it have been…? Shaking his head to banish the nightmarish images that swelled there, he turned back to Harry, who was holding out a key.

"Again," Harry said as Teddy took the key, "I don't know what's in there. " He grinned, reminiscently, "Knowing your father, books, chocolate, and a piece of wisdom." Harry chuckled, and Ted forced out half of a smile, the key clenched tight in his hand. This seemed too real, too weird. Like he didn't have the right to be nervous or sad, he hadn't known his father, after all. Not really, nothing more than stories but...what if there WAS something awful in the chest? Something that told him things he didn't want to know about his dad, his family? Himself? He had always pictured his dad, Remus Lupin, as a hero and a teacher. Someone courageously wise and sacrificing, who'd do anything to ensure the safety of those he had loved. What if…

"Do you want me to stay?" His godfather's voice snapped him out of his reverie. Without thinking, he shook his head. This was something that he…he didn't know. Harry nodded, reassurance emanating from his body as he patted Teddy on the shoulder and exited the small shed, leaving Teddy Remus Lupin with the only physical thing that could connect him with his father.

He didn't know how long he had stood there. The sun had already melted from its reds and oranges into the bluish grey of twilight that threatened to become the navy blues of night. His legs had started protesting at the stillness, and the sounds of the kids playing out front had died away a while ago. His hair had turned a bleak shade of brown, hanging limply around his face. The chest hadn't moved.

_Courage, _he thought desperately, _Gryffindor courage_… and stepped towards the chest, key clutched in his shaking hand. Slowly, slowly…it reached forward until it was fit safely into the lock. Gulping, Teddy turned his hand, and released a breath as the resounding _click_ sounded around the enclosed space. No going back…he raised the lid, and peered inside, bracing himself for the worst.

What he found was…was…was…

Teddy laughed. After a moment, his smiled faded as he stared at the chest's contents. Harry had been right. There were two book, one with some faded title with the binding coming off, the other what looked like a homemade journal or diary, stitched together between two pieces of black leather, embossed with the title of _'Memories'. _Next to them, was a box of truffles, magically sealed, and next to that, an envelope addressed to…to _'Theodore Remus Lupin, son of Remus and Nymphadora Lupin.'_ To him.

He reached for the letter first, his hands shaking so much he practically dropped it. It wasn't sealed. Pulling out the aged parchment, he stared at it blankly before he could convince himself to actually read the damn thing:

_Dear son,_

_Firstly, if you are reading this, I hope that it was Harry Potter who delivered this package to you. If so, it means that he has fulfilled his role as your godfather. I hope that Harry and Ginny and their children (for I am certain that they will have at least one) have been a positive influence on your life. I hope that you are happy with them, and I hope that they offer the unwavering support and love as I knew that they would._

_Secondly, I would like to apologize to you. I am sorry that your mother and I never knew you, and never got to see you mature into the great man I know you'll be. Mostly, however, I am sorry for you. I am sorry that your parents were never there to give you what you deserved, to answer your questions, to be there for you. For this, I am deeply sorry, and hope you find it in you, at some point, to forgive us. I just want you to know that we died to create a world where you could grow up safe, happy, and free. I greatly hope we did not die in vain._

_Third, I want you to know that, no matter what, I am proud of you. Where ever I may be now, no matter where you are now, don't ever feel as though you have tainted my memory, or how you will. There is no way that is possible, you're my son, and I love you. I know that you will, or have, grown into an exemplary person and man, and you could never do anything that could change that._

_Fourth, a word of advice: no matter what house you are in or where or when you grow up, there will be hard times. For some, more intense than others. I do not doubt your strength, son, but believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to be ashamed of. Whatever you do, do NOT let anything anyone says bring you down. Do not let anyone tell you that you aren't good enough, or that there is anything that you cannot do. Most of all, though, know that it is not weakness to feel sadness. It does not make you less of a man to cry. Even though I cannot be there physically to support you, know that, if you wish it, I am always there to help give you strength._

_Fifth, let me tell you about what is in this chest. Obviously, this letter; since I will never speak to you in person, I at least want you to hear your father in some way. I only ask that you consider what I have said, even if you chose not to believe it. Just let me assure you that every word on this page is absolute truth, and I mean every bit of it. Next, there is the chocolate; Harry may have told you, but chocolate was my favorite food. However, these are special chocolates. Each one contains a memory, of myself, your mother, or our family. If you do not want them, I understand, and similarly if you think me an old fool for including them, but I thought they would be more enjoyable in the form of sweets than a pensive. Finally, the books; one of them is a collection of my favorite stories as a student at Hogwarts. I do not know if you inherited my love of reading, but many of those stories helped my through turbulent times. The other is a scrapbook, created by myself. It contains memories of my school days, my life after Hogwarts, and a brief time before my death. Do not feel obligated to read it, I just didn't want its contents to be completely forgotten. Out of everything in the chest, that by far is my most prized possession. _

_Finally, I want to tell you to keep your friends. Never let anything get in the way of your friendship. People change, yes, and move on, certainly, but a friend is a friend forever. If someone loses their way and wanders, try to get them back on track. If not, remember them for the friend they were, not the person they became. A friend, a true friend, can never die. If there is one lesson I can teach you I want you to remember, it is that. _

_Remember, your mother and I will always love you, and always be with you._

_Signed,_

_Your Father,_

_Remus John Lupin_

Teddy didn't realize that he had started crying until he noticed his father's signature blurred out by a falling tear. _"A friend, a true friend, can never die_"_…_is what the letter had said. Harry had told him the story of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal. Had his father remembered not the traitor Pettigrew but the friend from school? Is that possible? Teddy wiped his eyes and folded the letter back into the envelope without looking at it again. Remus hadn't cared if Teddy remembered his parents fondly, just that he remembers that they love him. To forgive them for not being there.

"What the hell do I do with _that_?" It came out shaky and uncertain, and he certainly hadn't meant it angrily. A letter, chocolates containing memories, a book, and a scrap-book.

He fumbled around in the chest, eyes at the ground, and pulled out an object. It was the journal, his father's most prized possession. Should he read it? It seemed like an invasion of privacy. But, but, it was _his_ after all, right? His journal now, as well as his father's, and hadn't he been given permission to read it? Still…Teddy ran a finger over the golden embossed letters on the front, tracing the word '_Memories'_ slowly until he had it memorized. Eventually, almost ceremonially, he opened the front cover. The first page was a piece of parchment that read, in bold print letters:

**PROPERTY OF **

**REMUS J. LUPIN**

**(KNOWN ALSO AS MESSR. MOONY)**

_**I SOLEMLY SWEAR I AM UP TO NO GOOD.**_

He grinned at that, slightly, allowing himself to enjoy his father's schoolboy mischief. He spent the next hour or so flipping through the scrap-book, not reading it or looking at the pictures, just memorizing the texture of the pages, the handwriting, the smell, the emotions that seemed to be radiating from each page; happiness, depression, fear…

Teddy felt he had learned something about his father merely from the way the pages of the book were arranged. It was very meticulous, in a haphazard sort of way. It fell somewhere between a journal and a scrapbook, too many pictures for the former, yet too many words for the latter. The pages didn't match each other, many seemingly charmed into the books binding at a later date in order to fit the carefully planned out sequence. They varied between smooth white pages, yellowed old parchment with scribbling of notes still visible on the back or corners, a girl's stationary decorated with white flowers… yet somehow…it wasn't messy.

Teddy didn't think that his father would've liked "messy" things, he wouldn't mind a clean disorder, or an organized clutter, but never messy. It was a trait that Teddy himself had inherited, one that was incredibly hard to describe to those who didn't also share it. He noted how all of the pages' edges were in completely aligned with one another, each fit snuggly within a 5 centimeter margin of the front and back cover, and how the book was divided neatly into sections by year and season with a black sheet of parchment embossed with the careful cursive scrawl he recognized from his own writing. Remus had written the same as he had…the same thin and simple strokes that gave the impression that the author didn't want to risk anyone not being able to understand what they were saying. To understand…

It was already dark out, but Teddy didn't want to go to bed. He looked outside, up at the sky. There weren't any stars. However, he could still make out the writing on the pages, under the light of the shining and unbelievably bright full moon. Teddy blinked owlishly. No way, no way…had Harry planned this, or…no, it was surely a coincidence. However…good of time as any, not that he would sleep anyway. Carefully turning back to the first page, Teddy Remus Lupin began to read the memories of his father, for the first time in years.

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A/N: Yay! Thank you so much for reading :D This is just the beginning of what will most likely end up being a rather long fic :P Don't worry, the Marauders will definitely be involved heavily! Please review, critique much appreciated! 3


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